Skeletons
by CSI Haylz
Summary: Horatio regularly takes one week off work every year, but no one knows why. But now he risks Kyle finding out about a dark secret he would rather keep long forgotten. How will this affect his relationship with his son? DEDICATED TO ASHLEIGH148
1. Confrontations

**I'm baaaack :D I really hope you guys like this one :) And thanks once again for the great response to my first two fics - much much appreciated :D**

**Anyway, this fic is dedicated to Ashleigh Aishwarya, otherwise known as Ashleigh148. She dedicated an AMAZING H/K youtube video to me _as well as_ a fanfiction! The link for the vid is in my profile - definitely check it out!**

**Thank you so much, Ashleigh! You said I inspire you but you inspire me straight back! :D I really hope you like this fic :)**

**As always, those of you who spare the time to review, thank you so much - your words are magic ^.^**

* * *

><p>"H!" Eric called, jogging over to his boss who had just parked his hummer in the crime lab car park. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"<p>

Behind his sunglasses, Horatio's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. It was clear that Eric had been waiting for him. "Sure," he said, taking off his shades. "What's going on?"

Eric glanced around briefly before his face softened. "Do you want me and Calleigh to take over the lab next week?"

"No," Horatio said, his gaze shifting to the ground.

"No?" Eric repeated incredulously. He'd deemed his question practically unnecessary – Horatio had always said yes, ever since Calleigh and Eric had offered to help him. "Why not?" he asked, frowning worriedly. "What's happened?"

"Nothing, Eric," Horatio replied, avoiding eye contact by fiddling with his shades.

"Then why aren't you taking the week off? What's different this year?"

This prompted Horatio to lift his head and met Eric's confused gaze with his defiant one.

Though Eric recognised this as a sign that Horatio intended to get his own way, he stood his ground, fuelled by his increasing concern for Horatio. Every year he would take this week off – even if it took a little persuasion from some of the team – it was for the best. He wasn't fit to work.

"Kyle?" Eric guessed, rounding on Horatio.

The usually composed lieutenant looked away briefly, but caught himself and quickly faced Eric again. But that small slip was enough confirmation for Eric.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Eric said softly. "H?" he prompted when he didn't get an answer.

"No," Horatio said curtly. "He doesn't."

Eric bowed his head in sympathy before reaching out to Horatio, placing a hand on the man's arm. He frowned slightly at the lieutenant's slumped shoulders. "H, he needs to know. And better he finds out from you than from someone else."

Horatio sighed tersely. "I know."

"Why don't you just take the week off?" Eric asked gently.

Horatio hesitated, but Eric waited patiently. His boss was an emotionally withdrawn man and very rarely exposed his innermost feelings. Eric valued Horatio's trust in him greatly, and he had also been pleased to see Horatio open up more since Kyle had moved in with him. Eric treasured the moments where he saw father and son laughing together.

"I don't want him to worry about anything," Horatio finally admitted.

"He's your son, H," Eric reasoned. "He's going to know if something's up."

"I don't want him to know," Horatio said, effectively ending the conversation.

Eric didn't comment on the uneasiness clear in Horatio's eyes. "Okay then. Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Horatio!" Calleigh called out, spying her boss down the corridor. "Do you have a second?"<p>

"Of course," he replied, quickly hiding his growing suspicion. _Calleigh, too?_ he thought. One interrogation was more than enough for him.

"How are you doing?" she asked earnestly, her worried eyes seeking his.

_Yes, Calleigh, too_. "I'm okay," he answered, feigning surprise at her question.

She smiled sadly. "Eric told me about your conversation earlier," she explained, getting straight to the point. "He said that you weren't taking the week off because of Kyle?"

Calleigh wanted answers. Horatio always had a week of leave the same time every year: he needed the time. Very few people knew why but the team always ensured no questions were asked and covered for their lieutenant. So far, no one had cottoned onto the fact that the circumstances were practically identical every year.

"That is correct," Horatio confirmed, his tone soft with the edge of sorrow. Knowing she wanted an explanation, he sighed as he tried to knit together the words to explain why. "I just can't let him find out – not yet…"

Her face softened at Horatio's inner conflict. She reached out to him, touching his arm gently, unaware she was mimicking Eric's exact actions. "He'll find out sooner or later, Horatio. He's a smart kid. Look, you need this week off, you know that," she tried to persuade him, her tone hardening slightly.

She remembered back to when she had promised to help him stick it out through one of those weeks – she had never left his side. Calleigh swallowed bitterly at the memories. Her friend had to carry too much weight on his shoulders, and at this time of year it got the best of him.

Horatio ducked his head, avoiding her kind but pressing gaze. "Calleigh, if I take this week off, Kyle will as questions. I… I can't deal with that."

"Hor– "

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "I can't do it. If he finds out he might not look at me in the same way again. I just can't risk that." H looked deep into her eyes, begging for her to understand.

"It's okay," she soothed, taking him into her arms. She simply held him for a moment, before she gave him a light squeeze and added, "If you need _anything_, you call me." Calleigh pulled back to give him a stern look.

"Yes, ma'am."

She lingered for a minute, giving his arm one last comforting squeeze before walking away.

Horatio sighed and dropped his head as soon as she was out of sight. He felt deep gratitude for his friends' concern, but he was simultaneously relieved to have them off his back. With Eric and Calleigh reassured, Horatio could now get his head down and immerse himself completely into his work, and hopefully pretend that nothing had ever happened all those years ago.

Hopefully.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Dad," Kyle greeted as Horatio entered the living room, finally home from work.<p>

The man smiled at seeing Kyle sprawled across the couch. "Hey, Son. How was school?"

"Good," he replied distractedly, eyes fixed on the television. "No homework for a change!"

Horatio chuckled as he turned towards the kitchen, planning to get something to eat.

"Hey, Dad?" Kyle called after him. "Just to let you know, I'll be gone by eight on Saturday."

Horatio turned. "Gone where?"

Kyle frowned in confusion. "To the beach, remember?"

Horatio shook his head slowly. "No, I don't remember."

"Oh," Kyle said, puzzled. "Well, I asked you and you said it was fine – "

"You can't go, Kyle."

"What? Why not?" Kyle cried out in surprise, jumping up from the couch. His father had approved a week ago!

In truth, Kyle considered himself extremely lucky to have Horatio as a father. Considering it was a miracle they had even met, it was a pure wonder that despite only having experience as a surrogate parent Horatio was very kind and understanding – he trusted Kyle to look after himself and be responsible, and Kyle respected and honoured that trust in him. It was a rare gift in his eyes. Plus the fact that Kyle had proved he could make good decisions and take care of himself meant that he could go to parties and such – like this one.

Horatio paused, trying to fabricate a valid reason why Kyle couldn't go. Honestly, he just didn't want to let his son out of his sight right now. And if that meant that he had to forbid this party at the beach and with it forfeit his current relationship with Kyle, so be it.

Not that he would tell his son that.

"I… well…"

"You don't normally second-guess yourself," Kyle said suspiciously.

"Kyle, you can't go," Horatio repeated firmly. He felt a surge of anger within him but forced it back, keeping his calm exterior intact – for the moment. Kyle had no idea, but his father was practically on the brink – too many people had interrogated him today.

"Come on, Dad! This is so unfair!"

"I said _no_." _Please, Kyle, just drop it…_

But Kyle sighed loudly in frustration, rolling his eyes. Their dispute clearly wasn't over. "Did you have a bad day at work or something? I don't see why you won't let me go! I thought you trusted me with these things!"

Horatio closed his eyes briefly, reigning in his emotions. He knew he had to remain calm, despite Kyle's cutting jabs. Their relationship was often a delicate balance: Kyle was controlled solely by his emotions and had a fiery and volatile personality, whereas Horatio was reserved and tended to hide his true feelings, always appearing calm and composed. That distinct difference between them created an unwavering stability that they both craved. Horatio knew that if he were to let his anger seep through the cracks in his mask that crucial equilibrium would be broken.

"What's the problem now, _Dad_?" Kyle sneered, knowing he was getting at Horatio. He couldn't really explain the sudden explosion of rage within him. But for some reason it stung that his father had changed his mind – he guessed it was because it felt like his dad had decided to withdraw his trust in him. Didn't Horatio think he could look after himself? Kyle was unsure how to react to his newfound resentment, and so continued to lash out at Horatio, wanting him to hurt as he did.

"Go to your room."

"What?" Kyle spluttered.

"I said, _go to your room_." Horatio stared Kyle down, his words seeping with threat. He couldn't cope anymore. He could feel his chest heaving with laboured, enraged breaths, his ire escalating.

_Walk away, Horatio._

"So now you're going all parental on me?" Kyle snorted. "Not that you'd know anything."

A dark expression swept across Horatio's face. "Excuse me?"

"I _said_ not that you would actually know anything. You've not exactly been there all my life," Kyle spat bitterly.

"Kyle," Horatio said, shocked. "I never knew you even _existed_."

"And whose fault is that?" Kyle shouted, releasing his pent up thoughts. "You abandoned Mom!"

"I _never_ abandoned her!" Horatio replied angrily, eyes glinting dangerously. "You don't know what happened, Kyle!"

"Yes you did!" Kyle cried, ignoring his father. "And now she's in a mental home! Because _you_ left her!" Kyle paused to take a breath as the pain of old wounds blazed through him. "Don't you feel guilt for what you _did_?"

"_She_ left _me_!" Horatio yelled, the last fragments of his calm exterior bursting apart. "I _loved_ her! And she left me!"

Kyle scoffed loudly. "You don't have to lie, _Dad_. Mom told me everything! You left her and now she'll _never_ be able to look after herself! And _you_ did that," he accused harshly. "I guess you just can't save everyone."

Raw pain flashed brightly in Horatio's eyes and he reeled back slightly, feeling guilt claw at him. He struggled to keep his expression from crumbling.

Kyle saw it all. He knew he'd hurt Horatio with his words – _really_ hurt him – but despite the stab of shame he felt, his rage overpowered him and wouldn't let him finish there.

"Where are you when it _counts_?"

Something inside Horatio snapped. He whirled around and smashed his clenched fist into the brick wall, an anguished cry escaping him. Silence buzzed in his ears as he stood there for a moment, trembling, before he swiftly turned and left the room, brushing Kyle aside as he made for the door.

Kyle stood, frozen in shock, as he listened to the front door slam and the hummer's engine growl to life.

His stared at the deep crimson smudge on the wall, sinking down into the couch behind him. He dropped his head into his hands in despair, grief and remorse hitting him hard.

"What have I done?"


	2. Repercussions

**This fic is dedicated to Ashleigh148.**

**Hi guys! :D Sorry this took so long - churned it out as quick as I could for you :) You might not like this chapter - sorry! And I know it's kind of short, but I said I'd post something, so here ya go :P **

**Thanks so much to the guys who review - especially those who have reviewed all my stories. You are all amazing! **

* * *

><p>Kyle admittedly hadn't known his father for long, but he knew the man as genuine and trustworthy, a person who cared greatly for the people he loved. Kyle respected that. He often thought Horatio was far too righteous for his own good, leaving him with an immense capacity for guilt – even from actions he had no control over.<p>

Kyle knew he had cut his father deeply. They had never shouted at each other like that – with such bitter resentment burning strongly in their eyes and stinging their words. As their relationship had developed Kyle had occasionally lost control and yelled at his father, but Horatio had always kept his cool, soothing his son with his calm and understanding nature. Kyle was grateful for that.

Things had never blown apart like this.

"And it all started because _I_ wanted to go to some stupid party," Kyle concluded bitterly, squeezing his eyes shut in regret. He cursed himself for being so stubborn and insensitive to Horatio's pain. He knew his father had experienced intense grief and anguish throughout his life, and Kyle had often caught fleeting glimpses of the broken man Horatio worked so hard to hide. It clawed at him to know that he had only added to his father's hurt.

Kyle swiftly stood and headed for bed. He knew Horatio would not be back anytime soon. Attempting to fix things with his father would have to wait until morning.

He sent a silent prayer for Horatio's safety.

* * *

><p>Kyle opened his eyes sleepily, not quite sure why he was awake. A small niggling feeling was insisting to him that something was wrong. Letting his room swim into focus, Kyle forced himself up into a sitting position, scanning the walls for something out of place. He flinched at a thud from outside his door.<p>

"Dad?" Kyle called softly. He'd left his door ajar in the hope that he'd hear Horatio's return and be able to apologise as soon as he could. Was this him just back?

Kyle glanced at his clock. Two-thirty in the morning. It seemed highly unlikely – but then this was new territory for both father and son.

Slipping out of bed, Kyle stepped out into the hallway and listened for any other noise. He didn't want to startle Horatio. His head whipped round at the low, pained moan that came from his father's room.

"Dad?" Kyle called again, frowning worriedly. Steeling himself and reigning in his emotions, Kyle swiftly entered the room before he could change his mind.

But Horatio was in bed, asleep. Fine – or so he seemed. Kyle frowned again as he opened the door wide enough to let the light of the hallway reach his father's bed. He was not sleeping peacefully.

As Kyle moved closer, he could see how tense Horatio was. The man's fists clenched the duvet tightly, muscles trembling with the strain. His expression was pained and his eyes were squeezed shut, his head rolling from side to side. Sweat beaded on Horatio's forehead and streaked down his cheeks and neck, glinting in the light. His breathing was practically panting, and each breath seemed to drain him of energy, his chest heaving with the effort.

Reaching the bed in a heartbeat, Kyle placed a hand on his father's sweaty forehead, jumping back at the heat emanating from Horatio. Panic surged through him as he debated inwardly on what to do. Then he turned and raced to the bathroom, soaking a facecloth with cold water and squeezing away the excess before he returned to his father's side. Kyle wiped the man's face and neck tenderly, before resting the cool cloth on his brow.

Kyle felt a warmth settle in his chest as Horatio seemed to relax slightly at his touch. He watched as the tension in his father's arms gradually lessened, his tight hold on the duvet also loosening. But his face was still marred by a pained grimace that Kyle wished he could smooth away. He reached out and gently took his father's hand in his own, stroking Horatio's knuckles in an attempt to comfort him. Kyle fought the dismay when it had no effect, instead gazing at his father's face, hoping for answers.

He didn't know what to do. Horatio clearly had a fever, and a severe one at that, but was it coincidence that he was suddenly ill or was this a repercussion from their earlier argument? Could someone even get ill from an argument? _They could from nightmares_, Kyle thought.

He sighed, guilt eating at him as he realised he could have caused this. And he still didn't know what to do about it. But Kyle was pretty sure Horatio shouldn't go to work tomorrow.

Rising from his father's side, Kyle switched Horatio's alarm off, also putting his phone on silent. He'd text one of the team in the morning and let them know their lieutenant was ill.

Kyle felt a deep stab of remorse as he caught sight of Horatio's hand. The previous punch to the wall had clearly left its mark, and he could see his father hadn't treated it yet. Dried blood was crusted over his knuckles, which were clearly swollen. Kyle winced as he realised he could already see a dark purple colour spreading across the back of Horatio's hand. He could imagine it must've throbbed like hell.

He pressed the wet facecloth to Horatio's brow one last time before returning it to the bathroom and leaving his father's room altogether. Kyle left both doors wide open just in case, before climbing back into bed and closing his eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

He knew that he had to make things right. Come tomorrow, he desperately hoped he would get the chance to.

And he prayed that Horatio would forgive him.


	3. Apologies

**I am so sorry this story has not been updated in so long. You have my full permission to shoot me! I realise I have probably lost some interest but if you do still want to see how it goes I can tell you that I will finish this, no matter how long it takes :)**

**Thank you so much to all my regular reviewers - you guys are simply awesome. Also thanks to Betty for her kind message. **

**Horatio and Kyle rock!**

* * *

><p>The following morning Kyle had woken up early and quickly dressed for school. Before he left he peered into Horatio's room, feeling relief at seeing his father sleep peacefully. He fired Eric a text explaining why the crime lab would be missing a lieutenant, before scribbling Horatio a short note.<p>

_Texted Eric to say you're not going to work today. Get some rest._

_Kyle_

Placing the note on the bedside table, Kyle paused briefly to look at his father. The sight of Horatio's bloody hand made him wince, and Kyle wished again that he could take the bruising away. It was a glaring physical reminder of their argument and the painful words he had said.

Sighing, Kyle prayed his father would continue to sleep peacefully throughout the day, and that they would get the chance to talk when he got home. He hated the way things were just now – he wanted his father back.

* * *

><p>Calleigh checked that she was alone in the locker room before taking out her phone and calling Kyle. She knew he was at school but planned to leave him a voicemail instead. Hearing the familiar beep of the answer machine, she took a deep breath before speaking.<p>

"Hey, Kyle, it's Calleigh. I just thought I'd let you know that Horatio came into work today," she spoke calmly, knowing that when Kyle listened to this he would probably have a fit. "I know, your father just happens to be one stubborn man. We told him about your text but he insisted there was no need for a day off. I want you to know that we're all keeping an eye on him and I will personally make sure he leaves work early," she reassured. Hearing footsteps approaching the locker room, she hurriedly finished the call. "Kyle, if you need anything, _anything_ at all, you know how to contact me. And take care of your father for us."

* * *

><p>Kyle practically pounced on Horatio the moment he walked in through the door. He was much later home than Calleigh had said he would be. "Why did you go to work today?"<p>

Startled by the sudden question but recovering quickly, Horatio replied, "I don't see why I shouldn't have." He instantly regretted the bitterness in those words.

Kyle seemed unfazed. "You're ill."

"No I'm not," he said directly.

Kyle paused, unsure whether or not to tell Horatio that he knew about his nightmare. Did Horatio even know he'd had one? He hadn't woken up when Kyle was with him. But the fever his father had suffered, temporary or not, was definitely serious. However, if Horatio didn't know he'd been ill, then he would see it as Kyle lying, and things were already strained between them. Vowing to keep a keen eye on his father, Kyle forced himself to forget about the incident and quickly came up with an excuse.

"Well, I… I just didn't want you to have to explain that at work," Kyle admitted, indicating Horatio's bruised hand. His father had bandaged it, but dark spots of blood were soaking through the white linen. Feeling a familiar pang of guilt, Kyle stepped forward, reaching out to Horatio. "Here, let me clean that for you."

But Horatio automatically took a step back. "It's fine," he said, his face hardening. He hastily strode past his son, not even sparing Kyle a glance.

Behind his back, regret and hurt crushed Kyle's expression at his father's rejection.

Closing his bedroom door behind him, Horatio sagged against it for a moment, savouring the relief of being alone. Pushing himself up, he took a quick shower before heading for bed.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>Kyle frowned as he sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. This time, he had a pretty good idea why he was awake.<p>

Entering Horatio's room as soundlessly as possible, his heart sank when saw that his father was in the throes of another nightmare.

_And that fever's back too_, he thought with a sigh. He repeated his steps from the previous night and soaked a facecloth in cold water, before returning to Horatio. He sat next to his father on the bed, placing a gentle hand on the man's arm as he pressed the cool cloth to his forehead. Kyle frowned when Horatio cried out softly, jerking in his sleep. He gripped his father's hand and smoothed his damp red hair, hoping to provide reassurance.

"It's okay, Dad," he murmured. "You're safe."

The next day Kyle and Horatio did not speak to each other. When Horatio got home from work, he checked that his son was home before heading straight to his room, avoiding any sort of conversation.

Kyle had forced himself to bitterly accept the fact that Horatio did not want to talk. But he did want to make things right. He missed their close relationship: it was one he had craved all his life. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he would be forever without a family, or a stable living environment – and then one day Horatio had just come out of nowhere. A gift.

The conflict within him was tearing him apart. He wanted desperately to run to his father and apologise – beg for forgiveness. He knew he had made a stupid mistake.

But at the same time, Kyle respected Horatio's emotions. He knew he had wounded his father, and Horatio, the master of masking feelings, made it very difficult to tell how he was coping and when the right moment would be for a discussion. If Horatio wasn't ready to talk about it, he would most likely push Kyle away – reject him. Like yesterday. And Kyle didn't think he could cope with that.

He sighed and also headed for his room.

* * *

><p>Kyle groaned as he realised he'd been woken up again.<p>

"Third time lucky… is a myth…" he muttered, reaching for the light.

Horatio screamed.

"Dad!"

Kyle bolted from his room and burst into Horatio's, cursing loudly in fear when he saw his father thrashing violently in his bed. Panicking, he raced to his father's bed and started shaking Horatio's shoulders.

"Dad, wake up!" he yelled, narrowly avoiding one of Horatio's flailing arms. He firmly held his father down when the man started to push him away. "DAD!"

He sighed in relief when Horatio opened his eyes, and cautiously relaxed his hold as his father stilled. He frowned worriedly when his father squinted at him in confusion.

"Ray?"

Kyle's frown deepened. "No, Dad. It's me, Kyle."

Horatio seemed to ignore him. "Ray, you have to get out of here! Or he'll get you too! Please, run!"

Kyle felt sick when he saw the raw fear in his father's eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Dad. Listen to me – "

"No, no!" Horatio cried, struggling again. "You have to leave, Ray! Don't let him hurt you too!"

Kyle just stared at his father, speechless. He paid the price for his lapse in concentration when Horatio's stray fist struck his jaw, hard. Kyle flew backwards with a grunt, tasting the familiar tang of blood.

"Kyle?"

All Kyle could manage was a weak groan from where he was sprawled across the floor.

"Kyle!" Horatio cried worriedly, quickly reaching his son's side as Kyle pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"I'm all right," Kyle assured, gently batting away Horatio's concerned hands. "You have a mean right hook," he joked.

"I _punched_ you?" Horatio exclaimed, drawing back in horror.

"I think you had a nightmare," Kyle said hesitantly. "I tried to wake you, but you thought I was someone called 'Ray'."

His father said nothing, staring at his hands in disgust.

"Are you all right?" Kyle asked, worried.

"Kyle, I – I'm so sorry," Horatio choked out, unable to meet his son's eyes.

"Hey," said Kyle, scooting closer to his father. "It's okay. You had no idea what you were doing. And besides," he added, "I probably deserved it."

That got Horatio's attention. "Kyle, it's fine – "

"No, Dad, it's not. You and I both know it. We can't go on like this. I am so sorry for what I said," Kyle apologised, voice shaking. "I didn't mean it – _any_ of it. I don't know what came over me, I was just so _angry_."

Horatio reached out and took his son's hand in support. Kyle smiled slightly before continuing.

"I know it's no excuse, but I just have so many questions. Sometimes I ask myself who I am – it's like everyone knows more about me than I do. But I know I hurt you, Dad, and I'm so sorry."

Horatio enveloped Kyle in a hug. "Thank you, Son. I'm sorry, too."

After a while Horatio pulled back, intent on examining Kyle's jaw. He brushed his thumb lightly over the spot that was quickly beginning to bruise, still feeling slightly disgusted that he had punched his own child, even if he wasn't aware of his actions. But Kyle's forgiveness helped greatly. "You'll live," he pronounced with a dramatic sigh, not able to deny that his heart felt much lighter.

"Fine pair we are," Kyle grinned, his spirits also lifted. "Come on, you stink! I'll get you another shirt."

Caught up in his emotions and delight at having his son back, Horatio had completely forgotten about his back until Kyle had helped him out of his shirt.

Kyle couldn't hold back a gasp as he saw the state of his father's back.

Several, long scars ran diagonally across Horatio's pale skin. Some small and narrow, just tiny reminders. Others thick, red lines that still looked raw and angry after years of healing.

It was horrifying.

Horatio quickly snatched the fresh shirt out of Kyle's grasp and yanked it over his head, concealing his back.

Kyle snapped out of his daze. "What happened to you?" he asked, shocked. He felt ire begin to swirl up within him. Who would do this to his father?

Horatio's eyes closed in anguish. "Please, Kyle, not now."

The quiet plea quelled Kyle's anger instantly. He was desperate not to lose his father because of another childish argument, and he could see how painful this was for Horatio. "Okay, Dad, okay. Just one thing; is this what your nightmares are about?"

"Yes."

Kyle hugged his father tightly.


	4. Parallels

**Hey guys :) Thanks so much for the great response from all of you - I never expected so many reviews! Thank you all so much, and I hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Kyle fished out his phone as he walked towards school the next morning. Burning questions about what had happened to his father were preying on his mind, and he needed answers.<p>

"Calleigh Duquense," came the answer.

"Calleigh, it's Kyle."

"Hey, how are you? Is everything okay?" Kyle heard worry creep into her voice. "Is Horatio okay?"

Kyle sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I presume you knew about the scars on his back?"

She echoed his sigh. "Yes, I did."

"What _happened_ to him?" Kyle asked furiously, trying to keep his rage in check. "He told me that was what's causing his nightmares – which you also knew about?" He couldn't keep the accusation out of his voice that time.

"I'm sorry, Kyle." She sounded sincere. "But Horatio confided in me. It's not my story to tell. And you have to understand, this is really painful for him."

There was a long pause as Kyle considered her words. He smiled bitterly. "I've only just scraped the surface, haven't I?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"I know he doesn't make it easy," she said sympathetically. "But he'll come round… Just don't give up on him."

"Yeah, I know," he said. "I'm sorry, I just want to help him."

"I understand. And believe me, you're doing all you can."

"Could… Could you try and speak to him?" Kyle asked hesitatingly.

"Already tried, Kyle. I'm afraid Horatio's stubborn streak has kicked it up a notch this year. But I'll keep trying."

"Thanks. Try and send him home early today? For me?"

"You got it."

* * *

><p>"Lieutenant Caine?"<p>

Horatio turned. "Mr Ross," he acknowledged gently. "What can I do for you?"

The man looked awful. His shoulders were hunched, as if he wanted nothing more than to curl in on himself and hide away from the world's prying eyes. His head was bowed, causing his spiked fringe to flop forward and cast shadows across his face. He clasped his hands together anxiously, desperate green eyes flicking up to meet Horatio's understanding blue ones as he tried to form a coherent sentence. "Lieutenant, I – well, I just – "

"Why don't we take a seat?" suggested Horatio, and began to steer the man gently over to a nearby seating area, a guiding hand on his upper arm.

Horatio empathised with Graham Ross. His fifteen-year-old daughter had been missing for three days and the team had very little clues to go on, aside from a lone sighting on a quiet street corner, her figure just entering the CCTV frame.

The both sat down. "I take it this is about Connie, Mr Ross," Horatio prompted.

"Please, call me Graham," he said. "I think… I think I know who's taken her, and why she hasn't been in touch."

"Okay," Horatio said, appearing quietly encouraging whist simultaneously keen for some answers in order to find the girl.

Graham took a deep breath before continuing. "It's my brother. N-Neil. Neil Ross."

"Okay," Horatio said again, only mild traces of surprise in his eyes. "Is it possible Connie's in danger?" he asked urgently.

Graham looked lost. "Er, maybe? It's possible… Oh god, I don't know!" he cried, dropping his head into his hands.

Horatio placed a sympathetic hand on the man's tense shoulder, also reaching into his pocket for his cell and pressing speed dial. "Eric, it's Horatio. I want a search on Neil Ross, Graham's brother; he may have Connie. Dig up his background and find out if it's likely she's in danger, call me if you get anything."

He listened intently to what the team had gathered so far – sadly, not much more – before giving his final commands and snapping the phone shut and slipping it back into his pocket. He turned back to Graham. "We'll find him. Graham I need to know, why would your brother take Connie?"

Graham visibly pieced himself together with a shuddering breath before the words poured out. "Well, Neil and I have never had a good relationship. Scratch that, we've never _had_ a relationship," he sighed. "Our parents divorced and things just got worse. We lived with different parents and grew up individually, but he always resented me – I've always been the more successful." He smiled wryly. "I've offered him a job in my company, and even money so that he could kick-start his own, or just buy a decent place, but he always ignored me. It used to tear me apart, but then I had Connie." He smiled again at this point – genuinely, and Horatio reciprocated slightly as he saw a part of himself reflected in front of him.

Because they both understood. They both understood what being a parent meant; how it made them love life so much more, care about the world so much more, and how it brought a richness to their lives that they never believed possible.

Horatio squeezed Graham's arm lightly, coaxing the man back into reality.

He caught the lieutenant's eyes and smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

Horatio smiled. "Not at all. Go on."

"I knew he envied me. I offered for him to visit, but he pushed me further away. I was happy, and he wasn't. We've not spoken in years," he admitted regretfully. "Then one day, Connie left her Facebook up on the computer. I looked – I was curious. As a parent, you know?"

Horatio nodded understandingly.

"There were messages between her and Neil. They were totally harmless, so I left it. I figured maybe Connie could bring us back together." A tear slipped down his cheek, "I never thought it would escalate into this."

"Graham, is it possible that Neil would harm Connie to get to you?" Horatio asked cautiously.

He laughed humourlessly. "He sort of already has. Connie has become so distant, lately – acting almost exactly like Neil. We've argued; she'd come out with these random, unexplained accusations. I thought it might just have been The Teenage Phase, me being a single, inexperienced parent and all. He's fed her lies and turned her against me," he concluded bitterly. "I just want her back." The last part came out in a whisper.

"I promise you, Graham, I'll find her," he said with conviction and sincerity.

Graham smiled slightly. "Do you have children, Lieutenant?"

Horatio dipped his head. "A son, Kyle. Single parent myself, actually."

"How old?"

"Sixteen."

"Then you understand," said Graham, and he seemed to be more at peace. He turned to Horatio with a serious expression. "Don't add to my mistakes, Lieutenant. Kids can be so easily led. Don't even chance losing him – tell him everything."

Horatio simply nodded, placing a calloused hand on Graham's knee in silent support as tears cascaded down the man's cheeks. He forced himself to ignore the significance of the man's words.

"Hang in there, I'll find her."

* * *

><p>It was a couple of hours later when Kyle set off home. The roads were silent. Dusk was setting in and the warm sunset painted half of the sky, waging a losing war with the engulfing eclipse of night.<p>

He stuck in his iPod and shrugged his bag over his shoulder, wishing he'd brought his bike – the walk home seemed so long, and it only took five or ten minutes to cycle.

It was about three or four streets later when Kyle had a hunch he was being followed.

A group of three men were tailing Kyle at a distance, walking almost in unison. Large hoodies swamped their forms, the hoods pulled up and hanging over their faces, concealing them in the shadows. Their shoulders were hunched forward menacingly, hands stuffed into the large, single pockets that stretched across their midsections.

Trying to avoid attention. Inconspicuous. But there was something threatening about them. Every so often one of them would raise their heads and look straight ahead with sharp eyes, locking on their target.

Kyle.

He was alone and exposed, and he knew it. He bet they knew it, too. He'd never considered himself paranoid before, but the way every one of his senses were tingling with warning suggested otherwise. Inwardly, his head was still in denial: _you have no proof they're actually following you_, he told himself. He reached for his iPod, pretending to change the song but pausing the music instead, allowing him to listen to their echoing footsteps.

The upcoming turn on his left prompted a decision.

It was a small narrow street that led onto the final main road that eventually reached home. It was a quiet shortcut, but for some reason Kyle had rarely used it.

He knew he was close to home, and that he had never seen anyone walk down that street unless they were a drunken student tumbling home to their rotting flat after a night on the town – which these men clearly weren't. They would have no need to take this street. _Calm down, Kyle._

He reached the street, turning the corner and slipping out of sight. But the uneasy feeling refused to leave him. Still freaked, he whipped out his phone and hurriedly typed his location into a text to Horatio. _You're overreacting_, he told himself, about a third of the way down the deserted lane.

The three hooded figures turned the corner. Kyle instantly felt their piercing gaze on his back; now he was worried. Careful to still appear relaxed, his eyes flicked up to look at his surroundings – maybe he could knock on someone's front door, pretend to know them. But all that surrounded him was a bunch of derelict flats. He knew that, even if anyone actually lived there, it would take them forever to answer the door. They would catch him.

Looking back down at the phone in his hand, his location still displayed across the screen, Kyle quickly added two words to the end of the text before sending it off to his father.

_Come quick._


	5. Trouble

**Hope the cliffhanger wasn't too painful! What's going to happen to Kyle? :O And j****ust a warning, I am starting school again on Thursday, so updates might take longer - it depends on the workload :/ I think this story is coming to an end though :)**

**I'd also like to ask for some critique on this chapter, as I was unsure about writing certain aspects of it. Your honest opinions would be much appreciated :) Thank you so much to those who take the time to review, you are all stars :)**

* * *

><p>It was nearing the end of his shift as Horatio strode through the crime lab, heading straight over to the reception area where Graham was desperately anticipating news about his daughter.<p>

"Mr Ross," he greeted. "Let's go somewhere more private."

He led the way to an empty room where they both sat down. Once they were comfortable, Horatio jumped straight in. "We found Connie," he said, but hesitated slightly before he saying the next part. "She's currently at Dade Memorial; she had overdosed on cocaine."

His heart clenched in sympathy as Graham gasped at the news in devastation. The man opened his mouth to speak, but Horatio quickly answered his question for him. "Her condition was uncertain for a while but I have been assured that she will make a full recovery."

Graham deflated visibly, sighing in relief as tears gleamed in his eyes. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Lieutenant," he said, his thick voice full of gratitude.

"I'm glad she's all right," Horatio replied honestly.

"But how did she come across cocaine?" Graham asked with despair, slightly horrified when he realised the answer. "Neil."

Horatio held the man's gaze. "I'm afraid that's what it looks like. He has tested positive for cocaine in his system, and we'll soon have a warrant to search his property. He's currently in a holding cell." Horatio smiled before changing topic. "You're free to visit Connie. I'll arrange a cab for you."

He went to leave, but a grip on his wrist held him in place.

"I won't forget what you've done for me, Lieutenant," Graham said sincerely.

"It was my pleasure," returned Horatio, equally sincere. He dipped his head in acknowledgement before leaving.

He booked and paid for the cab at reception before making one last trip to his office to gather his things, his shift now over. Heading towards the car lot, he frowned slightly as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

_Come quick._

"Kyle?" he asked out loud, to no one in particular. He looked up in confusion, slightly surprised to meet his brother-in-law's eyes.

"Something wrong, H?" Eric asked tentatively. He knew his friend was still on edge.

"I'm not sure." Horatio frowned again. "Can you stay?" he asked as he initiated a phone call to his son. "I might need you."

"Sure," Eric acquiesced, feeling a small twinge of worry as Horatio waited impatiently for Kyle to answer.

"Dad!"

"Kyle, what's – "

"I'm being followed! By these men – shit!"

Horatio flinched as his swore violently.

"There's three of them, wearing hoodies – I can't see their faces. Please tell me you're coming?"

"Be there in five, Son, just hang on."

Kyle hung up.

"Eric, grab two uniforms and meet me in the parking lot. Kyle's in danger."

* * *

><p>The men had increased their pace. As they closed in on him, Kyle realised what a fool he had been to take the small street – there was no chance of running into a passer-by, no chance of being spotted. No chance of help.<p>

He'd tried to pass the phone call off as casually as possible, but a sickening feeling was growing within him and would not allow him to speak calmly. And no doubt they'd heard every word of the conversation in the tiny lane. Kyle inwardly cursed himself.

"Hey," one of his pursuers barked out gruffly, demanding attention.

Kyle ignored him, clamping down the gnawing worry in his gut.

_Dad, where are you?_

"Hey!"

Kyle turned sharply. "What?" he asked boldly, forcing his voice to be hard and strong.

"Caine's kid, right?" the one on the left asked, even though it was blatantly obvious that they knew the answer. Their hoods were still up so it was difficult to see their faces, but their eyes glinted brightly, their stares drilling into Kyle.

"Yeah, so?"

They grinned. "We'd like you to give your father a message for us."

Kyle snorted and made to turn away from them, but a strong hand shot forward grabbed his upper arm tightly and locked him firmly in place, rough fingers digging into his bicep painfully.

"Get off me," Kyle commanded loudly, trying to yank his arm out of the man's hold.

But the vice grip merely tightened, causing him to yell. Another of the group seized his other arm, and together they forced him up against the wall behind him, his spine grinding against the cold concrete.

Kyle continued to try and kick out at them and break free, but they just restrained him even tighter, their large hands easily locking around his skinny arms, fingernails jabbing into his flesh.

"You know," continued the remaining man in a conversational manner, his breath ghosting across Kyle's pale cheek as he leaned in close to whisper. "They say actions speak louder than words."

With that he delivered a swift punch to Kyle's gut, smiling cruelly when the boy tried to lurch forward and double over protectively, but was firmly held in place against the grey stone. The man took full advantage of Kyle's exposure, sending a solid strike to his ribs and a brutal uppercut to his chin which made Kyle struggle to keep his knees beneath him. He took deep gulps of air, trying to fend off the rising nausea.

"My dad's coming, you know," he said, and was cut off with another strike to his torso that forced all the air from his lungs. Two additional vicious punches to his already tender stomach caused tears of pain to prick his eyes and his knees to give way, only remaining upright due to the two men pinning him to the wall.

"He'll get you for this…"

An enraged blow to his temple brutally snapped Kyle's head to the side. He blacked out, collapsing weakly within the men's hold.

* * *

><p>His head buzzed loudly and painfully as he surfaced from unconsciousness. He forced his eyes open but quickly squeezed them shut again as scorching light burned his sight.<p>

A hand gently grasped his upper arm in support. It was a comforting gesture but it caused Kyle to moan loudly in pain as it pressed down on already aching bruises.

The hand instantly withdrew. He could hear voices now – no, just one voice. The intense buzzing began to fade and he concentrated on the voice as his head cleared. His name – it was calling his name.

"Kyle? Can you hear me?"

He forced his eyes open again, wincing and narrowing them into slits at the garish brightness. As the world sluggishly swam into focus, he realised he was lying uncomfortably on his back, staring up at the last vestiges of sunset.

A mop of red hair poked into view. "Son! Thank god!" A warm hand slipped into his. "Hang in there, an ambulance is on the way."

"Dad," he heard himself say, his voice sounding weak and strained. His breathing hitched and a bolt of pain streaked across his chest. He winced again.

"Shh," his father soothed, resting a light hand on Kyle's forehead. He was mindful of the growing swelling on Kyle's temple. "Don't speak, I know it hurts. Just hang on."

It was almost impossible to be silent; he wanted to ask so many questions. But he wasn't in a hurry to go through any more pain, so he settled for fixing his father with a questioning gaze, hoping he would take the hint.

He did. "Eric and uniform are in pursuit of the… the men that did this to you." He swallowed. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."

"Not your fault," Kyle said, pleased when his voice sounded stronger and more assured. He ignored the rebuttal from his chest. "It was those bastards."

Horatio had looked like he was about to reply when two paramedics came running down the narrow street out of nowhere. He bit back his surprise; he hadn't even heard the sirens.

"Sir," one of them began briskly. "Do you know him?"

"I'm his father," Horatio answered. "His name is Kyle, he was unconscious when I arrived."

"Right," she acknowledged, still professional. She scrutinised Kyle with sharp eyes as her partner efficiently sliced away the boy's scuffed shirt.

Kyle's midsection was already swollen from the violent beating. His skin was tinged a raw red – a promise for the agonising bruises to come.

Horatio couldn't say he was surprised. When he'd arrived with Eric, Kyle had been sprawled across the ground, limp and unconscious, as three men viciously kicked him with booted feet.

"Okay, Kyle, I'm just going to have a feel for any broken ribs," she said, before brushing experienced fingertips lightly against his chest. Despite her feather-light touch, Kyle couldn't hold back a small groan. He gripped Horatio's hand tightly, grateful for the contact.

"All done," she said, withdrawing as she finished her exam. "Nothing's broken, but you might have a few cracked ones there, can't be sure." She quickly exchanged meaningful glances with her partner before he scurried off back down the lane. Meanwhile, she carefully examined the swelling on Kyle's temple. "Mild concussion. Nothing too serious," she assured, firing Horatio a brief smile as her colleague returned with a stretcher. Her warm gaze settled again on Kyle as she explained her intentions. "We're just going to roll you onto your side, okay? Grit your teeth."

Kyle used every ounce of his restraint to prevent himself from crying out as gentle hands swiftly manoeuvred him onto the stretcher. He was pretty sure he had now crippled both of Horatio's hands as he relaxed his desperate grip. All of a sudden he was being loaded into the ambulance and he felt his father squeeze his hand lightly before letting go. He listened absentmindedly to the two discussing voices: Eric and Horatio.

He wondered distantly about what they could be talking about before the conversation ended and the doors to the ambulance slammed shut – a little too loudly, in Kyle's opinion. But he found himself relaxing as a calloused hand took hold of his and stroked his knuckles compassionately.

He passed out.


	6. Memories

**Hey guys - I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. This is, sadly, the last chapter. Since this was dragging I'm wrapping it up and will write a short sequel that will contain 'the talk', so look out for that :)**

**Thank you soooo soooooo much to everyone who reviewed! My original aim was for an average of 10 reviews a chapter (and if I get enough for this one I will have achieved that! :D) These awesome people are: suns and stars, Moochiecat, BettyJenSA, charmed4eva112, ajay1960, furryfurbi, dollydarwloo, daxy, Ashleigh148, lotsathoughts, Roots4Miami, Josu, CSI T11, delilah, queen of miami, DalitAninha, FireFriday and dragonwriter24cmf - THANK YOU ALL!**

**Anyone who favourited or subscribed, give yourselves a pat on the back ;)**

**But extra special thanks must go to: CSI T11, BettyJenSA, Roots4Miami, suns and stars, ajay1960, Moochiecat and daxy who have all reviewed every single chapter and given me consistent encouragement - thank you so much guys!**

**I hope you've all enjoyed the ride - I certainly have :) See you around!**

* * *

><p>It was fair to say Horatio didn't sleep much that night.<p>

Kyle had quickly been cleared for any internal bleeding or broken bones by the hospital's emergency team; Horatio wasn't capable of describing his relief. It pretty much ascertained that Kyle would make a full recovery, and took the edge off the painful helplessness that he felt. First being confined to the waiting room while Kyle headed into the trauma unit, then merely watching on as the nurses bustled about his son's hospital bed, inserting an IV and a nasal cannula along with various other tubes and wires to monitor their patient. Now, he sat motionlessly at Kyle's side, barely blinking if a nurse popped in to make some observations and add some notes to the chart at the end of the bed.

The doctor had explained that Kyle would be feeling the effects of the bruising for approximately three weeks, with at least a month before they faded completely. It pained Horatio to think that he hadn't been there to prevent this from happening. He hadn't been there soon enough, and in doing so had failed to protect his son – essentially the one, true family member he had left to cling to. Maybe – just _maybe_ – if he had listened and gone home he would have been closer and reached Kyle quicker – he could have saved his son.

It wasn't the first time that Horatio felt he wasn't cut out to be a parent.

He reached out and smoothed Kyle's short blond hair in a silent apology. He smiled slightly as he remembered how the hair used to be long and flopped over his son's face, casting a shadow over his eyes. It had frustrated Horatio when they'd first met, not being able to make eye contact with the boy. It had prevented him from forging any shards of trust with Kyle.

Horatio let his mind return to the memory of the day that they met. It really shouldn't have happened – but it had. Having now overcome the shock of being a parent, the lieutenant was immensely grateful for the events that had resulted in their meeting. Originally, there had been no common ground between them; no respect or appreciation for each other. But then Kyle had slowly changed for the better, shedding his defiant and rebellious nature and developing a sense of empathy, becoming aware of the people around him. Instead of acting impulsively and tactlessly, he had learned to see the good within people, and a new-found compassion had emerged. Their tentative bond of trust had become strengthened by the knowledge that the two had discovered the existence of the other, and that they both wanted to and could be happy.

Of course, they had endured their fair share of challenges – namely Julia. Admittedly, the two had never addressed the subject of Kyle's mother, neither sure whether it was even up for discussion. But Horatio was sure that due their explosive argument opening some old wounds it wouldn't be too far into the future before he had a meaningful talk with his son.

He only hoped he was ready.

He remembered the time after he'd just closed a particularly painful case, and Kyle had come home to find him drunk and, dare he say it, _vulnerable_. The subject of that night had never been brought up since, and Horatio was immensely grateful to Kyle for not pushing the matter. The case had grated on the scars of his past, and Horatio had found that when he'd wearily pulled up into his driveway he just couldn't bring himself to care.

All his life he had worked – _hard_. His mere existence was devoted to science and detective work, to help others. He was good at his job – bloody excellent at his job, and he knew that. He was lucky to be lieutenant to a wonderful team of CSIs, in fact he was lucky full stop. But, at the same time, his life was so unfair. Horatio would give anything – _anything_ – to still have his family around him. As if they hadn't been few and far between to start with! Such a small group of people that his heart had chosen to love, and they had all been picked off one by one.

One by one, they had all left him behind, progressing to a new life without him. One by one, they had all slipped and slithered through his fingers, lost to his touch forever. And it always seemed inevitable or unstoppable, no matter how hard Horatio tried.

And he tried _so_ hard.

So what, he was lucky. He was respected. He loved, and was loved in return. But he was _lonely_. In his life, everything came packaged with choices and consequences. Happy Endings were rare – he knew and accepted that fact, but that didn't make it any less difficult.

But this year had turned out differently: Kyle had moved in with him. For the first time in his life, someone had been dependent on Horatio for things that he wasn't used to giving, and at first it had scared him. Horatio had been forced to change. Initially, it was just small tweaks to his daily routine, but Kyle seemed to bring out the good in him and Horatio found his personality changing too. He was a new man, breathing easier without the heavy pressure of countless deaths and responsibilities that rested on his shoulders – because of his newfound son. And if there was one thing Horatio knew, it was that he loved his son and he wouldn't give up fatherhood for the world.

Kyle stirred in his sleep. "Dad?" he asked, still drowsy as he forced his eyes open a crack.

"Hey," Horatio greeted affectionately, standing up so that Kyle could see him better. "How are you feeling?"

"M'fine," Kyle mumbled around a huge yawn, before smiling ruefully. "Okay, maybe a little tired."

Horatio chuckled softly. "Get some more rest. I'll take you home in a couple of hours."

"'Kay," Kyle sighed, his eyes drifting shut once more.

Horatio took comfort in his son's even breaths as he easily slipped into a deep sleep. The hole in the lieutenant's heart was already healing along with Kyle's physical wounds. Despite the horrific trauma that Kyle had endured – alone – the few moments that his son was conscious had proven to Horatio that Kyle had not been mentally affected by the beating, retaining his fighting spirit. Needless to say, Horatio was incredibly relieved at the prospect of a full recovery, and it meant that maybe, in time, Horatio could forgive himself.

* * *

><p>Horatio gingerly helped Kyle over to the couch in the living room, where his son collapsed against the soft cushions with a sigh. Due to an… <em>agreement<em>, that was forged on the ride back from the hospital, Horatio obediently trotted off to fetch Kyle the TV remote, of which he would have no control of while his son occupied the couch – _for the entire length of his recovery_.

Kyle received the remote from his father with an innocent smile.

"Can I get you anything else?" Horatio asked, slightly mocking but also wanting to ensure his son was comfortable.

Kyle grinned. "Why, yes of course, _Jeeves_. Something to drink would be most splendid," he said haughtily, his voice jumping up a few octaves.

Horatio laughed warmly before his face turned serious. "Coming right up, _Madame_." He gave a short, polite bow before scurrying off to the kitchen.

Kyle smiled as he watched Horatio go, but it slowly slid from his face as he considered his father. He knew that Horatio was blaming himself for what had happened, and he hated it. He wanted desperately to talk to his father but he wasn't sure how to broach the subject. Kyle was extremely wary of Horatio brushing him off with practiced ease before he even managed to get anywhere, and there was also the problem of old wounds floating just below the surface from their recent argument. The last thing Kyle wanted was to destroy the fragile equilibrium that they were currently building on.

"Your drink," Horatio announced, revealing a glass of squash with a flourish.

"Thanks, Dad," he replied, taking a sip before setting the glass aside. "Dad?" he called as Horatio started to walk away. "I don't want you to blame yourself."

If Horatio was surprised, he overcame it quickly. Sighing, he sank into a nearby chair. "I should have been there to protect you," he said, voice heavy with guilt. "I'm your _father_."

"You stopped them as soon as you could and called me an ambulance. I'm going to be _fine_ and you came for me – that's all I care about, Dad," Kyle insisted with conviction.

"Thank you, Son," Horatio said quietly as he avoided Kyle's gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly.

"I mean it, Dad," Kyle said, his voice gentle. "Give yourself a break, you did everything you could."

"Kyle," Horatio sighed in exasperation, "if I'd gone home earlier – _as agreed _– then I would have been closer to you when it happened. I could've reached you in time."

"It wouldn't have made much difference and you know it."

Horatio didn't respond.

"Dad." Kyle waited until his father looked at him before continuing. "What's _really_ going on? The nightmares, the arguments, everyone's worried about you… I've never seen you like this before. Please talk to me."

Both were silent while Horatio tried to make sense of his thoughts. He sighed wearily before replying. "Kyle, there are things that you don't know about me – things in my past, and I'd prefer to keep them a secret." He dropped his head, studying his clasped hands as he continued. "And I don't want you to know because I'm afraid that if you do you won't look at me in the same way ever again. And I don't want to lose you, Kyle."

His son's face softened. "Dad – "

"But this, among other things, has made me realise that you _need_ to know. If something happened to one of us, or if one of us were targeted, you knowing everything about me could potentially save your life. You'll also know what you're really in for with me as your father," Horatio concluded wryly, glancing briefly at his son.

"Dad, I could never want a different father," Kyle said sincerely. "And you'll never lose me."

Horatio's face lit up with a genuine smile. "Thank you, Son." His face sobered as he continued, "I know we need a long talk – "

"No time like the present?" Kyle suggested.

"I'm just not ready," Horatio admitted. "If you give me some time to sort my head out, I promise I'll tell you everything. Can you wait?"

"Of course I'll wait for you," said Kyle. "Take your time. I'll be ready to listen."

"Thank you," said Horatio, his eyes slightly misty. He stood and moved towards Kyle, gently enfolding his son in an embrace. "I love you so much."


End file.
